Original subtitles

Yes?

Who is it?

Who are you?

Extraordinary.

To make that sort of impact, he must have weighed about 10 tons,

or been travelling about 100 miles an hour.

Roller skates? - He was wearing any, I don't think.

Maybe he was practicing his ski jump. Launched himself from over there,

flew through the air... - And forgot to apply his brakes.

No explanation at all.

Well, whatever it was, it was something very nasty.

Mr. Steed, Mrs. Peel.

I'm Cynthia Wentworth-Howe, top-hush secretary to the minister.

How do you do? - Top-hush?

We assistants come in four grades:

confidential, secret, most-secret and top-hush.

You've reached the top of your profession.

Not quite.

My ultimate ambition is to achieve the special category of button-lip,

the pinnacle of secrecy.

Not a single syllable passed on before being vetted, examined, coded, and cleared.

But to business. I must assist you in any way I can.

Good, let's start with the man who got plastered, then.

We assistants don't approve of levity, Mr. Steed.

The gentleman in question was Dr. Charles Grey,

A.D, Mem. of Royal Inst. Vic. MBE.

R.I.P.

Dr. Charles Grey was a brilliant and respected scientist,

engaged on electronic development for the Ministry.

His work was of a specialised, and highly secret nature.

Electric fans?

I beg your pardon?

This is the diagram of an electric fan.

Specialised and highly secret?

I think we better have a look in the safe.

What?

Dr. Grey's safe. We'd like to have a look at his papers.

His secret papers? - You have the right idea.

You'll have to sign a chit.

In triplicate.

The three-headed bureaucrat.

Grey wasn't killed for the plans of a fiendishly new electric fan.

Still warm.

I should warn you, if you have to take any papers away,

there'll have to be a special dispensation from security.

There's no need to bother.

Now, that's a neat trick.

Burn the inside of a safe,

while it's locked and sealed on the outside.

What were the papers in there?

I suppose they were the details of Project 90.

Pardon? - Project 90.

Now that sounds more interesting.

I've no idea what the project was. It was abandoned some months ago.

They overspent their allocation and got no results.

They? - This was the team.

They were based at Risely Dale Research Centre.

It's been closed down, too, now. You recognise Dr. Grey, of course.

That's Dr. Creswell, Mr. Mankin, Mr. Jubert, and poor Mr. Bryant.

Poor Mr. Bryant?

He fell out of a window only last week.

Badly hurt? - Mortally, it was on the twelfth floor.

That leaves Mankin, Creswell, and Jubert. That has a fine Gallic ring to it.

And your French is impeccable.

Au revoir.

Don't forget to return the key.

Mr. Jubert.

You missed lunch again.

You really ought to eat something.

Mr. Jubert!

Call the generator room.

Hurry, tell them there's something wrong with their power supply, quickly

Did you get the generator room?

Miss Clarke?

What happened? - I was rather hoping you could tell me.

I'm not sure.

I came out to use the phone and...

...there was someone here.

A man, I think. And a sound.

A strange sort of sound. - Strange? How?

What kind of sound?

It was... weird.

Like that.

Steed!

Steed!

Steed.

You don't happen to be carrying around a large brandy, do you?

No, I'm travelling light. What happened? Are you all right?

Well, it happened like...

I haven't the faintest idea.

It was something to do with a door. No, doors that bite back.

Yes, it was a car door.

It was around here. It was a blue van.

And it bit you.

Well, I went to open the rear door...

and then bingo, a galaxy of stars, then oblivion.

Do you think someone came up behind you?

No, I'm sure they didn't.

And I remember there was a very, very odd noise.

What kind of noise? - Well, very odd, it's hard to describe.

Like that? - Yes, like that.

Maurice Jubert's secretary heard it, too - the late Maurice Jubert.

He's dead.

Well, it seems to me we're on the right track.

And that's about all.

Steed?

Could it have been a woman, whoever it was that attacked you?

It's make-up.

Odd, greasy sort of make-up.

Looks as though we're dealing with a slippery customer.

Dr. Creswell. Very nice to see you.

This is the gentleman I came down to see.

How do you do?

Oh, allow me, my name is Steed.

I'm sure the Ministry told you we were coming.

Oh yes, yes, that's right.

But I wasn't expecting...

Oh, Mrs. Peel is at times a bit impetuous.

Do you always greet your visitors at gunpoint?

Oh, good heavens, no, no.

No, I had been out shooting rabbits, you see, and I didn't expect...

Please, don't apologise. Very glad to contact you.

You were in charge of Project 90.

Yes. - Absorbing project.

You mean you know about it?

Couldn't understand why it was cancelled.

You still have a lot friends at the Ministry.

Does that mean that the project is going to be opened again?

Not here, let's discuss it later.

At your home? You do live near here, I believe?

Oh well yes, yes, as a matter of fact just about a quarter...

How about a cup of tea?

Maybe even a drink?

Well, I suppose so. - Good man.

Mrs. Peel will join us later.

She wants to have a thorough look around Risely Dale.

Well, this is a pleasant spot. And very conveniently close to the old research centre.

Yes, well, I didn't think there was much point in moving.

And I must say that retirement doesn't have any of the terrors that I expected.

Why did you retire so early?

Well, I didn't have very much choice, did I?

Oh, of course, Project 90 getting the chop and all that.

More or less.

Naturally I disagreed with the decision. - Naturally.

All the same, we could do with a few breakthroughs in that field.

Oh, exactly. High-frequency electronics has tremendous potential.

Sherry? - Thank you, high-frequency electronics, eh?

The Americans poured millions into it. - Well, of course they have.

We were well established, you know.

We were developing ultra high frequencies when the team went dotty.

Dotty? - Broadcast power.

Oh, broadcast power.

I was against the idea, you know, from the start.

It just isn't feasible, broadcasting electricity by radio wave?

But you were the director of the project.

Yes, well at first it seemed harmless enough.

You know, simple bench tests.

But before I knew it, they were building generators.

They were using funds allocated for other work.

Then the whole thing just got completely out of hand.

And then the Ministry closed you down?

Years of work, thrown away on a senseless pipe dream.

An entire project ruined by one man.

One man?

The fool who started us on broadcast power, Mankin.

James Mankin.

Remarkable.

Astonishing.

Some kind of natural phenomenon.

Natural?

Yes... a fireball.

A cloud of static electricity.

Some sort of freak phenomenon. - It could be possible.

Well, I won't detain you any longer, Dr. Creswell.

Thank you very much for the drink. Don't worry, I'll find my own way out.

Find anything?

Yes, I also heard something a few moments ago.

A sort of crackling sound.

You should've seen the fireworks in there, I'll tell you about it later.

Look Steed, just there.

A hand print. - Preserved in make-up.

When do you think you'll get your first bite?

Never, if you keep on talking.

Oh, I'm terribly sorry. I forgot you are a top-hush girl.

Do you know, it's quite surprising to find you doing this?

It's nice to get away from people once in a while.

I'm not people, I'm business, Ministry business.

My day off.

May I make a suggestion? - What?

I would say a flaming Kestrel fly for these waters.

No, I prefer a red Coachman.

You're a fishing man then? - At least a stretch on the test.

As a matter of fact, I caught a 10-pound salmon last week.

Really? Where? - In Bond Street.

I was walking by a hotel, and it fell out of a window straight into my arms.

Was in contretemps with his chef, he's a very volatile fellow.

But he had no aim with a salmon.

Of course, I threw it back.

It would be hardly sporting to hold on to it.

Now that suits you. It's very good for the face muscles.

And you might as well get as much laughing in as you can before it happens.

Before what happens? - Before you get elevated to button-lip.

You can hardly laugh in button-lip.

Well, what can I do for you?

Project 90. I'd like to see the Ministry files.

Ministry files? That's utterly impossible. No one sees the Ministry files.

Only red card holders.

But surely...

I'm sorry. It's out of the question. Red Card holders only.

And a red card, that's about as rare as a salmon in Bond street.

Steed, I'd no idea.

All the confidential war records are kept here.

Have there been many confidential wars?

Cleaning must be a bit of a problem.

No cleaners with red cards?

I could hardly see the Prime Minister whisking his way around here with a feather mop.

Or I don't know, maybe I could.

Mr. Steed, voices aren't raised here.

Oh, I'm so sorry.

This is the one you need: Project 90.

You seem to have pyromaniac mice.

There will be a terrible fuss, a full inquiry.

Play havoc with your fishing. Now, how do I find out about Project 90?

The only person who can help you now is Mankin, James Mankin.

Mr. Mankin is very busy at the moment. Do you have an appointment?

No, but I'm sure he'll see me. John Steed, from the Ministry.

One moment.

Mr. Mankin. - Yes, what is it?

Mr. Steed is here to see you. He says he's from the Ministry.

Oh, very well, send him in, I'll see him.

Go through, please. - Thank you.

Mr. Mankin?

Mr. Mankin? - Yes?

It's very kind of you to see me.

I'm very busy. You did say the Ministry, Mr. Steed?

Yes, about Project 90.

And broadcast power. Is it possible, Mr. Mankin?

Your Ministry doesn't seem to think so.

But you do.

I spent years proving it. All it got me was the sack.

Dr. Creswell thinks it wasn't fully proved. - Dr. Creswell doesn't think.

Why are you so sure about broadcast power, Mr. Mankin?

Why are you so interested, Mr. Steed?

Because someone has been trying to destroy all trace of Project 90.

And the people who worked on it.

I heard about Bryant and Charles Grey. Accidents, they said.

No accidents. Yesterday Maurice Jubert was murdered.

Well?

You seem to be taking it very calmly.

I'm busy and also I don't believe a word of it.

I can assure you they were not accidents.

I don't doubt it. But not because of Project 90.

The applications of broadcast power are quite ordinary, Mr. Steed.

There was no motive for murder in any of the work we did.

You could be mistaken.

Very well, I'll show you.

As simply as possible.

This device here produces static electricity.

A development of a Wimshurst machine?

Oh. Oh well, that makes things easier.

The electrostatic energy is converted into a very high frequency wave pattern here.

Fed into this transmitter.

And just about ready.

You see this electric fan? No wires, no hidden batteries, but...

Observe.

No power source other than the energy I'm broadcasting.

That's very strange.

You know Dr. Grey was designing a fan when he was murdered.

That doesn't mean a thing. This is the type of equipment we used on the project.

Hardly the ultimate weapon, Mr. Steed.

What if the... - Do be careful.

What if the range in power were unlimited?

And it could be unlimited.

If we'd been given time to develop it, you could power anything.

Cars, aircraft, entire cities.

Creswell never believed in it. He treated it like a toy.

But he surely gave the authorisation for the research?

And forced us into a demonstration we were all against.

And you failed?

Of coursed, I knew we'd fail. It was too soon, we weren't ready.

At least Creswell got the sack along with the rest of us.

What are you doing here? Still developing broadcast power?

Wish I was. This is a commercial outfit.

I spend most of my time tarting up stereophonic sound and radar.

Whenever I get the chance, I'll return to this.

I should be careful, Mr. Mankin.

I have a feeling someone has another use for broadcast power.

Mrs. Peel, do you know anyone who wants to buy a vintage Bentley...

in the new two-tone shade of green and slightly singed?

I have just survived an electrifying experience and I'll swap you all the details...

for a large brandy?

I was driving along the road, minding my own business,

Enjoying and breathing the good country air.

Contemplating the glories of England in summertime.

You were driving along. - When I noticed a van following me.

The one with handles that fight back?

Right, and as soon as I recognised the fact...

Pop! - Pop.

Bang, splat! - Bang, splat.

All my car's wiring burnt out. The car was full of smoke, I was blinded.

There was a gatepost rushing up toward me. With tremendous verve and �lan,

and I may say, great driving skills. - And a good deal of luck.

Anyway, it was a very near thing. The car is still working,

But all my little dials are kaput, even the altimeter.

Never mind, if one day you happen to be driving at 10,000 feet, I'm sure you'll notice.

What do you think did it?

Broadcast power.

Sending electricity just as you would a radio message.

That's what Mankin was working on.

You saw Mankin? - Oh yes, I saw Mankin.

And I gave him something to think about.

Hello? Yes, he's here. It's for you.

Hello? - Steed?

Mankin. Look, what you were saying started me thinking.

So I decided to ride out to Risely Dale.

Oh, you've actually been there?

Yes, I'm there now.

Look, Steed, I think you may well be right - something is going on.

Hold on, Mr. Mankin.

Mankin's at Risely Dale now.

He's on to something. - Or up to something.

Do you want to meet him? - I'll see you later at Creswell's.

Hello, Mr. Mankin? Mrs. Peel is on her way right now.

Right, I'll be waiting.

Hello, Dr. Creswell, not disturbing you, I hope.

Well, I'm rather... - Good!

I thought if I caught you at this time you'd be free.

But I'm extremely busy... - Forgive the unconventional entrance.

It's basic training, old habits die hard eh, do you mind?

Look, Steed, I don't wish to be rude,

but I was deeply engrossed in this circuit diagram before you came in,

and I wish to get on with it.

I thought you were pacing the floor before I came in.

It looked to me as if you were waiting for someone,

but you couldn't have been waiting for anyone if you were engrossed in the circuit diagram.

Well, I was thinking. - Go ahead. I'll be as quiet as a mouse.

You're extremely edgy, Dr Creswell, you've been working too hard.

Why not some of this excellent sherry? It is excellent.

Steed, what do you want?

Information.

Mankin seems to feel that you are sabotaging Project 90.

Are you sure you're not waiting for someone?

No, it's ridiculous.

What is? - Mankin's suggestion.

It's ridiculous, why should l, or anybody, wish to sabotage Project 90?

Broadcast electricity.

I thought the Ministry had abandoned that particular little pipe...

Perhaps, the Ministry have but someone else is still pursuing it.

It would make a very neat little secret weapon, if it were possible.

If. - That's what I said, if.

Ah, Hayworth.

This is an unexpected pleasure.

I didn't expect to see you.

This is Mr. Steed from the Ministry.

This is Peter Hayworth. - Delighted.

Forgive me, sprained a tendon playing bridge.

You play a rough game, Mr. Steed.

Well, I expect you called for those papers.

Here we are. We won't keep you then.

Don't go now, you've only just arrived.

Dr. Creswell's the host, but I'm doing the honours.

He's a trifle off-colour today.

You're an electronics expert, too, I imagine.

Those papers, very complex to the laymen.

Well, he does occasionally assist me.

So you've worked together before, Project 90, eh?

Ah, that must be Mrs. Peel.

Mrs. Peel?

Told her to meet me here, she may have news from Risely Dale.

I thought I told you to kill her. - I thought I had.

Mrs. Peel, how did it go at Risely Dale?

False alarm.

Oh, I'm sorry, we haven't met.

Mrs. Peel, may I introduce Peter Hayworth, you know Dr. Creswell.

Hadn't we better get going?

We're going to be late for that dinner appointment with Mankin.

What dinner app...?

Oh yes, thank you for jogging my memory.

I think, gentlemen, we'd better say goodbye.

Goodbye.

Allow me. - Thank you.

Oh, I am sorry. - My pleasure.

I don't usually fall for strangers.

Well, goodbye Mrs. Peel, Steed. - Goodbye, Doctor.

What was all that about?

You didn't trip. We don't have a dinner engagement.

And to plumb the depths of utter banality with:

"I don't usually fall for strangers."

It was a corny situation calling for corny measures.

I wanted to get my hand on his collar.

Didn't you see? It was thick with make-up.

Odd, greasy sort of make-up.

There should be enough here to put under a microscope.

Good girl.

And Mankin? - Dead, I'm afraid, electrocuted.

So would I be if I didn't have rubber soles on my shoes.

And the kick on the shin?

Oh, that?

I just felt like that.

Are you sure you took care of Mankin?

Oh yes, gave him a nasty shock.

So, they've all gone then.

Mankin, Grey, Bryant, Jubert.

All their files are destroyed.

All the dangers are eliminated. - Except for Steed and Mrs. Peel.

They can only guess as to what's happened.

They don't know how it was done.

I think it's about time we showed them.

Steed? Yes, I know it's late.

I've been slaving over a hot Bunsen burner.

Yes, I've been doing tests on that sample of make-up.

It contains particles of aluminium.

And there are also traces of a nonconducting oil.

It doesn't conduct electricity.

That's right, it acts as a sort of insulation.

It's perfectly logical, after all an ordinary make-up insulates a girl from all sorts of things.

No, not those sort of things.

Against the wind and the weather, for example.

So, why not a make-up that insulates the wearer against high voltage?

All right. Yes, I'll see you tomorrow.

I want you in my arms again, Mrs. Peel.

Into my arms.

Good morning, Mrs. Peel I trust you slept well.

As well as can be expected. What time's breakfast?

I would've rung but as you can see, I'm all tied up.

And you'll stay that way.

Oh, it's you, my shocking friend.

I hate to tell you but I think you're losing your power.

Quite deliberate. We didn't want to kill you.

Yet.

And I'm sure you have a very good reason.

Certainly.

I imagine you know where you are.

I'm at Risely Dale.

But that's obvious.

Then there's the question of Steed.

Steed.

That's all we want.

That's why we had to keep you alive.

To get Steed to come here.

I'm the bait.

Two for the price of one.

He'll know its a trap.

Not if you call him. And you will call him.

When I have edited our little conversation.

I imagine you know where you are. - I'm at Risely Dale.

Hello?

Forgive me.

Steed.

Mrs. Peel, good morning. How are you?

Mrs. Peel, are you all right?

Where are you?

I'm at Risely Dale.

Mrs. Peel? Hello!

He'll be here in about 30 minutes.

Perhaps. - Oh, he'll come.

He may have his suspicions, but that won't matter.

He won't suspect you.

And you are going to kill him.

Spare my blushes.

Mrs. Peel, you are looking at a superman.

You're wrong. His pectorals are far from perfect.

He's a prototype. The first of many.

His power is unlimited.

Balls. His power is limited by what your little blue van out there...

your mobile generator is capable of giving out.

Say about 10,000 volts.

Oh no, Mrs. Peel, much more than that.

We take the power from a small engine. We build it up, transform it.

Pushing it up and up.

Until he becomes a walking dynamo.

The technique is so simple. First he's sprayed with a...

a nonconductive oil.

It acts as an insulation, a sort of protection.

Then comes the substance containing aluminium particles,

a sort of outer skin.

You said that you'd destroyed all the files.

I did. - It was an educated guess, Dr. Creswell.

Plus a little research.

What a great pity, Mrs. Peel.

That brilliant mind won't be with us much longer.

I must test the generator.

A walking dynamo.

My pectorals may leave much to be desired, Mrs. Peel,

but I'm the most dynamic man...

you are ever likely to meet.

Hear that? Power.

Broadcast power.

A life force flowing into me, fed by radio waves.

Making me the most powerful man on Earth, a king, omnipotent.

Careful you don't blow a fuse.

Oh no, my protection is guaranteed. See, you were right,

The inner skin protects me, the nonconductive oil.

And the aluminium particles carry the electric charge.

Very good, Mrs. Peel, top marks.

The power ripples across my skin like muscles.

At least 25,000 volts of it. I can kill, burn, destroy.

A superman.

And in a few months� time, there will be a hundred like him.

For what purpose?

You might call it a takeover bid, Mrs. Peel.

Society owes me many things.

When my army of supermen moves in on society, I shall dictate the terms then.

I will bring the government to its knees. I will become the government.

I will rule.

What happens if there's a power cut?

The table is completely insulated, Mrs. Peel.

But soon you will be charged with 25,000 volts.

Then whoever touches you will earth you.

The shock will kill both you and the person who touches you.

I'm sure Mr. Steed will want to free you.

It's rather elaborate, but it's the nature of an experiment.

A technique that we have been wanting to try for a very long time.

Steed's coming.

Mrs. Peel, I'd recognise those eyes anywhere.

I knew you had sterling qualities, but bright silver.

Where are your hallmarks?

Don't worry, have you out in a jiffy, time for pleasantries later.

Steed, do you realise I happen to be charged with 25,000 volts?

I attribute that to your personal magnetism.

I mean, listen to that generator.

It's lucky I'm not earthed, then.

I happen to be wearing rubber galoshes, the English gentleman's best friend.

Guaranteed to protect you against the vagaries of our delightful climate,

and also 25,000 volts.

There's something wrong.

She's still holding the charge.

It's up to me then.

Creswell's a complete megalomaniac. He's planning to take over the country.

Then we've got to stop him. Now, how does that fit?

Well, not exactly snug, but adequate.

Steed!

Now.

You ruined his make-up.

Steed?

Where have you been? I've been waiting for you.

I've been messing about with all this electricity.

I don't know how, but I'm magnetised.

I'm stuck to the car.

It's no laughing matter, Mrs. Peel.

How am I to, how am I to call the garage and tell them I'm stuck to my...

Well, how am I to call a garage?

Look, this is most indelicate of you.

Now, let me see. How can I be constructive?

What are you, AC or DC?

I've never had an occasion to find out.

Here, let me give you a hand.

Don't fight it, Mrs. Peel. We're inseparable.

Subtitles by rick@peoplesguidetothecosmos.com